Though My Tongue is Poison
by Abnormal Girl
Summary: Kohaku experiences the death of Shuichirou for the second time, and Koryu comforts her in the only way Kouryu can. One-sided Koryu/Kohaku. Flangst. R&R.


Though My Tongue is Poison

Koryu had always enjoyed the sight of bubble-headed Kohaku blubbering in distraught. After a century of nothing but brooding (though he insisted it was only because of boredom) and giving into the licentious demands of his feline subordinates, nothing excited him more than the sight of that wide-eyed angel metamorphosing from the wisteria stump with her charming and naive smile ready to be curved into a flustered pout.

He couldn't deny the rush he felt as he cast hexes upon her, showing off the new tricks he gained in one hundred year's time, and seeing the instant reaction of her turning around to chastise him for ruining her day. Her blond brow would furrow above those sparkling eyes, and he could read them and see how, in that moment, every thought in her mind was directed at him. He loved the way the angel's voice would so quickly become sharp and demanding, all in the feeble attempt to get him to change his ways.

Koryu didn't know how much he craved this attention until he lost it for decades upon decades, and the games were so much sweeter now that he had her back for a second round.

Koryu adored every negative emotion that Kohaku so easily granted him, but _only_ when they were for him.

Shuichiro didn't die at the same, tragic young age as he did before, but he died all the same. It was then that all of Koryu's memories rushed back to the first time he saw Kohaku so helpless in utter despair. All of her innocence was washed away by the merciless stream of tears that ran across her cheeks. The fact that she was trapped in her cherubic form didn't offer Koryu any thought of mocking her, but rather made his heart sink at the sight of a creature so powerless to do a thing. Even that stubborn spark in her eyes, that fuel to her resolve to always do good, that look he so loved, had burned out and died as if it were never there.

It was no wonder that, without hesitation, Koryu demanded what kind of monster would reduce his precious Kohaku to something so heartbroken. And when he heard that it was none other than The Lord Himself, Koryu could already feel the devil within him growing stronger.

So when he saw her perched in the branches of a tree, gazing down at the scene of tombstones, flowers, and mourners clad in black below, he could not dare to turn away. As he saw her once again, with her head hung over like a wilted flower, he could not possibly deny that despite every fathomable excuse he could come up with for having any emotional attachment to the pathetic bubble-head, _he cared_ and that was the truth.

But as he approached her, he lost sight of his conscience and feared that if he spoke, he would be denied the chance to bring Kohaku back to herself. Everything he had ever said to her instigated pain and frustration, so now that he actually wished to _comfort_ the angel, it was simply impossible for him to find the words.

So rather than destroy the picture with foolishly chaotic verses, Koryu chose to settle silently beside her, and remain until there was some shift in the atmosphere. He didn't mind if it took another hundred years, he would wait for her until she was ready to speak.

Koryu never thought he would ever feel guilt for his malicious way of life, but now that he could feel the threshold between him and Kohaku, he suddenly began to wonder just what she thought of him.

She probably thought he was a heartless thing whose only intent was to cause any possible ruin to her life (which, for a long time, he had proudly agreed to be true), and maybe his mere presence was draining any possible chance of joy she had left in her. Maybe it would be wiser for him to leave. But, from out of either some psychological sadism or obstinacy to show her his true feelings, Koryu remained rooted to his seat.

Without any expectancy on the demon's part, Kohaku's lips slowly parted, and her soft voice was rich to Koryu's ears.

"It's different this time," she began. "I thought it'd be the same, and that I'd be ready for it. But it's different."

Then, she looked at him. Koryu could name and thoroughly describe every look that Kohaku had ever given him in exact detail, but never once had she looked at him like this. She seemed pleading, almost. But not pleading for mercy, this time, but rather pleading for an answer. She needed someone to provide a shoulder for her hand to lay steady on, so she searched for that in Koryu.

It wasn't because she found Koryu to be particularly special, but simply because he was _there_. Somehow, that made him feel like he might've done something right for once.

However, when he realized that she was waiting for him to make a response, Koryu found himself lost, again. If he slipped on his caricature of a heartless devil out to torture her _now_, then he knew he'd never forgive himself. But when it came to words of comfort and care, his lack of experience made his lips seal shut.

So instead of risking the latter or the former, he decided to speak logically.

"Well, he isn't the Shuichiro from before. Same soul or not, of course he's different."

Kohaku nodded slowly, and her eyes settled on the funeral once again.

"I know, but it's not just that. We… we were actually _together_, this time. I mean, we were together before, but… it was like our happy ending."

"Except that it ended?"

Kohaku's gaze lowered further, and her lip quivered. Koryu almost regretted ever talking, but Kohaku wasn't finished, yet.

"_Yes_," her voice choked, and her head caved between her knees. Her wings trembled with every sob as she let the tears flow freely. Koryu hated himself for doing this to her. It seemed only natural that the moment he tried to make things better for Kohaku, it would only get worse than he ever imagined. He wanted to say he was sorry, and leave before he caused any further damage. But most of all, he wished that he could take back every unkind word he had ever said to her.

But before he could even form the phrase "I'm sorry" in his mind, he felt something warm wrap itself around his palm. Koryu looked down and saw Kohaku's hand clinging to his, begging for him to stay. He didn't know how or why she would ever do this, but stayed all the same.

Kohaku lifted her head from the folds of her robe, and looked straight into Koryu's eyes.

"I'm back to where I started, wishing that I was human so I could be with Shuichiro. I'm just so useless, like this… I can't even die with him."

Suddenly, that sentence struck a chord in Koryu, and he was reminded of all the things about Kohaku that he _loathed_ more than anything else.

Kohaku looked scared, and Koryu realized how tightly he was pressing her hand, and how intensely his glare shot through her. Accepting that there was no turning back from here, the demon let himself go.

"_Die with him?_ How could you possibly say that, you fat-for-brains!"

Kohaku shook her head.

"Koryu, listen-"

"No, _bubble-head_, you listen to me…"

Koryu found his other hand grasping her shoulder, right where wing met blade. This caused the angel to flinch with pain, but Koryu found that he didn't care. So he let his glowering red eyes close in on her, letting her taste his fury.

"Your precious _Shuichiro_ may be the one who is most important to you, but don't you dare talk about that _human_ as if he's the only thing that matters," the demon raged on. "Whatever happened to Hisui or Kokyu, or even those stupid cats that you pick up off the streets? There are plenty of immortals and mortals out there who care about you, and would cry if they saw you die, and it would be _all your fault _just because you couldn't stand waiting around for the next hundred years to see Shuichiro _again_."

Kohaku's eyes softened and he could tell that she was listening to him, now. He let his grip loosen since he had her attention, but still wasn't ready to let it go astray.

"I don't deny that I have absolutely no idea how you feel right now, but I do know that waiting for someone that you care about isn't something to whine about. You should be grateful that you can even wait for him _at all_, and he's damn lucky that you're willing to do it."

Kohaku stared at him questioningly, and laid an innocent, curious finger on his nose. Koryu fruitlessly tried to stop the pink that dusted across his cheeks.

"Do you… care about me?" the angel inquired.

As if he were some mortal high-schooler pressured to ask the girl he liked to the dance, Koryu's face flushed red within a second and he could feel his voice lock up in his throat. The sinful demon had always prided himself when it came to seduction and other sensual talents, but whenever Kohaku was involved - all of his experience cowardly ran away and left him with the maturity of a bullying kindergartener.

Koryu was left with absolutely no choice but to change the subject, and he wasn't quite finished with his rant yet, anyways.

"M- my point is…" his voice hopelessly choked. "Being the lucky angel that you are, it's plain stupid to start cherishing death, with or without the 'soul mate crap.' Just wait for him, and don't be such a pathetic little fatty. Besides, if you think you're upset, _now_…"

The demon just couldn't help himself. He could feel that sadistic edge creeping up into his vocabulary once again, and let it show by slowly uncovering the gleam in his sharp white teeth. He wore his confidence like a blazer.

"You just _wait_ for what I have in store for you. Not only am I gonna pick on you every second of the century before he's resurrected, oh no… you're stuck with me for _eternity_. I'll make sure that every single time you think you're off for the perfect day with your precious boyfriend, I'll be there to make you _wish_ you were dead."

But instead of seeing that stubborn little frown, that furrow in her brow, or that dangerous spark of justice in her eyes, Kohaku's face lit up in a warm smile complete with flushed cheeks and a beaming gaze.

"So you promise not to leave me alone?"

Koryu's devilish pretense was gone in an instant, and he was once again at a loss for words. Would he promise to never leave her? It was a hefty vow to make, as immortality granted a lot of time. Yet, he couldn't really see his future any other way. Nothing brought Koryu more joy than to see Kohaku react to him, to see some sign that in her innocent little world, _he _somehow had an effect.

So, without any further hesitation, he answered her.

"Yes, I promise."

Because eternity was a long time - and perhaps with it, he could learn to be kind to her.


End file.
